


The Real Dr. Sexy

by angelsandcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dead John Winchester, Dead Mary Winchester, M/M, Multi, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandcastiel/pseuds/angelsandcastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...I mean it, Detective Winchester, stop jumping in front of moving trains. You're going to get yourself seriously injured some day and I might not be able to fix it,” Castiel snapped.</p><p>Dean frowned, “I'm a detective: it's my job... And who pissed in your Cheerios today, doc?”</p><p> </p><p>Castiel Novak is a doctor at Lawrence General Hospital. He's been having a tough day at work and just when he thinks that things can't get worse, they do. Castiel is down on life.</p><p>Dean Winchester, star detective of the police force, continually gets beat up on the job. Is he doing it intentionally to see his real-life version of Dr. Sexy? Or is he just in the wrong place at the wrong time? </p><p>Are these two just what each other needs?</p><p> </p><p>Rated M for language and other naughty things!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Simple Truth

Castiel patted the elderly man on the back as gently as he could. What else could he do? He felt his own heart drop into his stomach as he processed the information about his favorite patient. He thought of the man as the father he never really had. Castiel had been a doctor for over ten years and this grumpy old man had grown on him. Hell, Castiel even got invited to family parties, which he always declined. He was too professional for that.  
  
The old man didn’t move a muscle.  
  
“How long do I have?”  
  
Castiel frowned as he placed the folder down on a nearby table, “Six months.”  
  
“Thank you, Dr. Novak.”  
  
Castiel couldn’t bear to look the small and crumpled man. He’d just lost his wife a month ago and now he knew he would die too? It just wasn’t fair. No man deserved to die this way, Castiel thought as he exited the room. Life just wasn't fair. It was a fact he understood, working as a doctor in a hospital, but it wasn't something he was willing to accept in this case. He wanted to lie to Jason Kingsley and tell him he had enough time to see all his grandchildren grow up. He didn't like it one bit.

His shoes squeaked against the overly clean tiles as he turned and made his way out of the wing. He heaved in what he thought was most of the air in the hospital. His favorite patient’s cancer had spread and there was nothing he could do to make it better. He let a stray tear roll down his face as he walked down the bleach-white hallway. People talked at him but Castiel couldn't pay attention. The man was too absorbed in his own thoughts. He turned into the staff room and sat down at one of the empty tables.  
  
Why was life so cruel? The man was eighty-seven years old. He had children, grandchildren, great grandchildren that he would leave behind in less than a year. Sure, eighty-seven years was quite a while but for some reason, he never wanted to see the old man die. He promised to help him through beating the cancer. He had failed.  
  
Castiel slammed his fists down on the table in frustration.  
  
“Why can’t I save him?” Castiel whispered.  
  
His pager beeped and drew him out of his dismal state. He had to put his feelings aside. He collected himself a bit before wiping his eyes. He had to keep working. He wasn't about to let another person slip out of his grip.

 

* * *

 

Castiel stood at the bed of Detective Dean Winchester, staring at the man. He couldn’t exactly help but stare at him - he was a regular patient around here. Castiel became angrier and angrier after each visit. The first time, Detective Winchester caught a bullet for his partner in his stomach. The second time, he was stabbed, protecting a child from her alcoholic mother. Castiel lost track of how many times he’d seen that beautiful face in the same state - unconscious.  
  
But Detective Winchester was a hero and no one could argue with that. His face was plastered over the television most days or headlines in the morning newspaper. He was nothing short of amazing.  
  
His eyes dragged over the topless man. His body was sculpted by the hands of God. Castiel couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lay his hand against that chest. It’s not like he hadn’t felt the man’s chest before. It was just, he didn’t want to stitch the gorgeous man up. Castiel wanted to just feel the flutter of his heart underneath his fingertips. He wanted to lay in bed, kissing every scar on that chest, and not stop until he got every single one.

He was fairly certain that Detective Winchester didn't play on the same team though. He'd seen him with Lisa Braeden, one of Castiel's high school friends, and they were pretty cuddly up until recently.  
  
“Ugh, I really need to lay off the tequila,” the dark and velvety voice rang clear like a bell through the room.  
  
Castiel didn’t laugh, “You were stabbed in the left shoulder. Minimal loss of blood,” he said as he stared at the chart, “I would suggest refraining from physical activity in your shoulder area for at least four to five weeks to make sure that you don’t tear open the stitches-”  
  
“Four to five weeks?” Dean replied, rather exasperated.  
  
Castiel rolled his eyes, “Yes?”  
  
“I need to catch this bastard. Four to five weeks, my ass. ”  
  
“You're taking at least two weeks off from work. I’ll fax it over to the chief. I mean it, Detective Winchester, stop jumping in front of moving trains. You're going to get yourself seriously injured some day and I might not be able to fix it,” Castiel snapped.  
  
Dean frowned, “I'm a detective: it's my job... And who pissed in your Cheerios today, doc?”  
  
Castiel blew air out through his nose, counting back from ten, trying to reign in his emotions. It was hard when Dean was in the room. Fuck, he thought, he was hard when Dean was in the room. He was thinking with the wrong head. “It’s not of import. You’re required to stay for the next day so we can monitor your vitals. Good day, Detective.”

* * *

 


	2. The Downhill Slide

Dean poked the red jell-o with his spoon, watching it wiggle back and forth. He sighed and dropped the spoon. It wasn’t pie, that’s for damn sure. Hospitals never had pie because the elderly patients would probably choke on it, Dean thought sourly. He just wanted a slice of Ellen's homemade pie... it didn't really matter what flavor because anything would be better than the horrifying glob of gelatin under his nose.

“Seriously, Dean? If I didn’t know any better, I would say you had the hots for your doctor or something. You’re ridiculous.”

Dean looked up from the jell-o. Sam. He smiled at his younger brother but it faltered quickly as he processed what Sam was saying.

It wasn’t his fault that he kept getting shot and stabbed. It was part of his job description as a detective. Sometimes, he had to get down and dirty to get the lead he needed. It seemed like he was getting more injured than he usually was. It could have something to do with his good-looking doctor. His cheeks warmed as his mind drifted to his personal Dr. Sexy, blue eyes and black hair, hovering over him.

“Shut up, Sammy. Did you bring pie?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “I didn’t have time. I rushed here from the office to see you. Jess is worried about you too, you know.”

Dean frowned, “It was _just_ a stab wound.”

“Yeah? I thought you were about to die! That’s what I think every time that Castiel calls me!”

“Castiel?” Who the fuck was this Castiel character? He’d beat the shit out of this dude for getting Sam so wound up over a little scratch. It wasn't a big deal. People were stabbed every stupid day and most of them lived to tell the tale. Dean was no exception to this rule.

“Dr. Novak," Sam replied, "But that's not the point right now. Dean, _please_ be more careful. I can’t be worrying about you getting killed every minute that you’re not in my sight, especially when Jess could be going into labor any day now. I have enough to worry about, okay?"

“Stop being so dramatic, Sammy.”

“I’m not being dramatic, Dean, I’m trying to tell you that you’re going to get yourself killed if you’re not more careful!”

Just then, the door to the room opened and in walked Dr. Novak, or Castiel, as Sam called him. Dean’s eyes were fixated on the bright blue eyes of his doctor. For a doctor, the dude was good looking, almost as good looking as Dr. Sexy. Dean felt his face warm as the man tilted his head. He was so caught staring at his doctor. Great, he thought as he wiggled under the sheets.

“Doctor Novak!”

“Sam,” Castiel smiled, “How is Jessica doing?”

“She’s great. The baby is great,” Sam said, “But how is Dean doing?”

The smile slipped off his face, “He’s all set to go - just need to sign the paperwork. Everything seems okay.”

“Good, good. Hey, are you okay, Castiel? You seem a little off.”

Dean’s ears pricked up.

“I - uh - I'm fine, thank you for asking. Have a great day, guys."

And Dean couldn't help but feel his heart drop down into his shoes. What was wrong with Dr. Novak?

 

* * *

 

Dean sipped his luke-warm coffee as he stared down at the files. His first night back on the job in over a week and his fellow officers had swamped him with desk work. There were pages of information sitting on his desk about Lucifer Milton, or as most knew him, the most wanted man in all of Kansas. It was going to be a long night. He inhaled and exhaled as he placed the mug down on his desk.

Lucifer Milton.

His name made Dean shiver. One man was responsible for a string of over ten murders in the past year and the bastard still hadn't been caught. He was a tricky man to catch: he never stayed more than one night in any given location. They had been close to catching him a few times but it seemed that they were just one small step behind Lucifer every single time.

Hopefully, if Dean read over the files, something would jump out at him - a new lead, maybe?

Just as he flipped open the file, the phone on his desk rang.

"Sam?"

"Jess just went into labor!"

Dean slapped the phone down into the receiver. Well, he couldn't have gotten a better call at that point in time. His hands went for his cup of coffee and the keys to the impala as he bolted out of the door of his office.


	3. The Emptiness Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday. Happy birthday to me! And to celebrate, have a new chapter! Carry on with your lives! :)

Dean's hands shook as he put the keys into the Impala. He let out a sigh as he rested his head against the steering wheel. He couldn't take sitting there, in that stuffy hospital room any longer. Sam and Jessica had been crying for what seemed like years. It broke Dean's heart to hear their cries of pain and knowing there wasn't anything he could do to fix it.

Dean wasn't going to have a baby niece.

Sam and Jessica weren't going to have a newborn _daughter._

He couldn't fight his feelings off any longer. He was strong in front of Sam and Jess but now, the death really took it's toll on the detective. He cried out as he let tears slip from his eyes, inside the safety of his muscle car.

"God damn," he cursed.

 _Thud, thud, thud -_ he tapped his head against the wheel. It made him feel a little better, but it wasn't as good as hitting one of the junk yard cars in Bobby's lot, that's for sure.

Dean lifted his head from the steering wheel. Sam and Jessica didn't deserve it, in fact, Dean couldn't think of a more cruel fate for a newly wed couple. They just wanted to make a family and to be happy. He would never wish this kind of pain on anyone. So, _why did it happen to Sam and Jess?_

He choked out another sob as he turned the keys in the ignition. The engine of the Impala roared to life but Dean couldn't bring himself to put the car in drive. He couldn't just leave them in so much pain, could he?

He had to. It would help Sam and Jess heal... At least, that's what he kept telling himself as he put the car in drive.

He began to drive back to headquarters but he forgot why he was even going back. There wasn't a point for him at the point. He couldn't think straight - hell, he couldn't think about anything at all but the stillbirth of his niece. It would haunt him for a long time and this was just the beginning. He scoffed at his mind, which offered the thought that "time heals all wounds" and that this was the same case.

This would be an exception to that rule.

Ever since his parents died, Dean was completely torn up. It was difficult to fill the shoes that his father left in the crime unit at the department, but the worst part was that it was just difficult to live a normal life without a father. It was like a living hell when both his parents died in a house fire when he was young - about eight years old. Sammy was too young to remember who they really were, but Dean could vividly see his mother making pies in their old kitchen and his father coming home from work, planting a kiss on her cheek... He shook his head, removing the images.

He kept on driving.

He stopped outside of Ellen's diner at about 10 in the morning. He hadn't slept all night and he just wanted a piece of pie - that was all he wanted at that point.

Dean stumbled as he made his way through the doors and sat down at the retro-style bar. He placed his head down on the counter. He was drained emotionally and physically but he wanted a pie before he passed out.

"Dean? Are you okay, honey?" Ellen's motherly voice rang in his ears. He felt her hands rubbing circles on his back. It made him feel a little bit better. He just wished he could rewind time and change things for Sammy and Jess.

He grumbled, "Pie."

Ellen's hands left his body. He lifted his head from the counter. There were only a few people in the diner that morning, which was the only positive thing that he could remember happening for hours.

But, as if his day couldn't get any worse, it had to. He noticed a couple, sitting in the far corner of the diner. They were holding hands across the table, smiling and having a grand old time. It was actually one of his former partners, well, when Dean was a cop. He could recognize that british accent from anywhere. It was Balthazar.  
  
It wasn't Balthazar that made him upset though. It was the attractive doctor that sat directly across from the man, playing with his hand.

Castiel.

He noticed a pair of bright blue eyes flash over to him. Castiel's face changed from gleeful to something that Dean couldn't exactly identify. It was almost a look of pity in Dean's eyes. He tore his gaze away from the couple just as Ellen put down the piece of pie in front of him.

"Care to tell me what's on your mind?"

Dean took a bite of the pie before sighing and pushing it away. Pie didn't even taste good at that moment. It was probably a great pie but it just didn't taste the same as it usually did. The pie tasted a bit sad to Dean, or maybe, his emotions were just getting the best of his tastebuds...

"Stillbirth," he choked out.

Ellen gasped, "No. I'm so sorry. Poor Jess. Poor Sam. Jesus," she whispered.

"She was beautiful, Ellen. She was so beautiful," Dean couldn't help his voice cracking with emotion, "I got a chance to hold her but-" he cut off his sentence, realizing that he couldn't continue without breaking down in the small diner.

"Dean. You should get home. Here, let me get my keys and I'll just lock up-"

"No, Ellen, I can get home fine on my own," he protested, "I just wanted some pie and then I was going to head home."

"If you won't let me drive you, can Jo drive you home?"

Dean sighed.

"It would make me feel better about letting you leave."

"Fine," he agreed, "But she can't touch my baby. It stays here."

"Okay," Ellen said as she turned her back. She leaned over the service window, "Jo! Get your butt out here. You're driving Dean home. Ash, I'll call Anna in to cover for her, okay?"

A few moments later, Jo was next to Dean, walking with the broken up man out the door of the diner.

* * *

Dean blinked at the empty bottle of vodka that sat in front of him. He was completely plastered. He had to get his emotions out some how and putting his lips to the bottle seemed like the only way. He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. Fuck, he thought, I'm so screwed up.

The doorbell to his home chimed.

He stood from the couch and slowly made his way to the front door. His body trembled with each step from the massive amounts of alcohol coursing through his veins. It didn't worry him though... well, it didn't worry him as much as who could be waiting behind the door. It could be someone trying to kill him when he was weak.

There was a teenage boy at the door, holding a large vase filled with white flowers. Dean sighed as he unlatched the lock.

"Mr. Dean Winchester?"

"Yup."

The boy extended the flower arrangement towards him, "For you."

"Thanks," Dean took the vase gingerly, "Uh, have a good day?"

"You too, dude," the teenager said before hopping off his front step and running out to the bike that was leaning up against the fence.

Dean shut the door and inspected the flowers. There must have been at least twenty or thirty white lilies inside of the glass vase. Who would send something like this to him? He frowned. They should have been for Sammy and Jess. He sighed as he placed them on the small table in the hallway. There was a card attached to one of the flowers.

He opened it up.

_Dean,_

_Condolences.  
_

_Castiel Novak.  
_

_If you need a friend to talk to, feel free to call.  
_

And finally, a phone number scrawled across the bottom of the card.

Since when did doctors send flowers? Dean sighed as he stared at the number on the bottom. Should he call? In any other circumstance, he would be thrilled to have Castiel's number. He would ring him up in a minute and chat about absolutely nothing. Something about the situation made it moderately unnerving for Dean. He wasn't sure what the proper thing to do was. Well, he could just call and thank the man for the nice flowers, that would probably be appropriate...

Oh who was he kidding?

But then again, Castiel did include his number.

So was he expecting Dean to call him?

Why would Dean bother if the man was already in a relationship?

He placed the card by the vase and stumbled over to the living room. He passed out on the couch in a matter of minutes.

* * *

 Castiel paced back and forth in his house, staring at his cell phone.

"Cassie, what are you doing?" Balthazar's voice caused him to jump slightly.

Cas shrugged, "I was just waiting for someone to call. I mean, I don't know if they're going to call, that's why I'm worried. I'm worried in general. Yeah," he admitted to his boyfriend, in a rather defeated tone. He really didn't want Balthazar over his house at that moment in time, but of course, Balthazar has a way of shoving through his doorway. The slightly older man practically lived with him.

"Ah, I see. Well, don't worry, they're probably taking a snooze or something. Why don't you eat something? You haven't had anything all day."

"I'm fine," Castiel snapped, "Er, sorry."

Balthazar didn't say anything. He approached his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the other man.

"What's wrong, baby?"

Castiel wriggled in Balthazar's vice-grip, "I just need some space right now."

"What do you mean, 'you need space'?"

"I mean, Balthazar, you're really overcrowding me all the fucking time and I'm sick of it. Can I just have some space for a night? Please? I just need to get my head on straight."

Balthazar let out a huff of air, "Fine. Call me," he said before stomping out of the house, like the drama queen he was.

Cas rolled his eyes. He was getting sick of Balthazar's antics lately. It might have to do with a certain detective. He sighed as his cell phone rang with the confirmation of the delivery of his flowers. He toyed with his iPhone, flipping it over in his hands over and over as he fell into a dark thought. He could just imagine Dean looking at the flowers and chucking them into the trash can. A guy like Dean wouldn't like flowers, would he? Everyone likes flowers. Even most people that are allergic to flowers like them... right?

He sighed as he slipped his phone into his pocket. He quickly changed out of his formal clothes and into a pair of shorts. He needed to run. He sat down on the floor of his bedroom and began stretching.

* * *

 

 


	4. The Coping Mechanism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just signed up for GISHWHES...! :)

Castiel felt his own feet pounding against the warm pavement. It was almost four o'clock and damn, was it hot outside. He smiled to himself as he took a left turn down Riverview Drive. It was his favorite part of his running routine because there wasn't a lot of traffic down the street and, well, he secretly read someone's file and figured out where this certain person lived. He made a habit of running by Dean's house at least once every week.

He would sigh most days as he ran by. He would notice Dean's feet poking out from underneath his black and absolutely gorgeous Chevrolet Impala. It was obvious that Dean loved that car more than life itself, but Castiel somehow wished that Dean would notice him jogging by instead of his stupid car. He silently hoped that one day, maybe, Dean would say hello to him, or even see that he ran by.

Well, Castiel actually hoped that Dean would lay him down on the backseat of the Impala and push into his tight hole until he couldn't remember any other name aside from Dean's. He would want to wiggle and scream, begging Dean for more, more, more. He could feel a blush creeping up on his sweat-covered neck as he approached the house.

He shook his head - he had a boyfriend, why was he even thinking about Dean?

He pounded his feet harder on the pavement. He had Balthazar. Even though he was a bit pushy, he was very sweet and caring. He was everything that Castiel expected from a boyfriend. He should have been happy... should have been.

He stopped for a moment by the driveway of the house.

 _I am such a stalker_ , he thought with a small frown on his face. He began walking slowly in front of the house.

Just at that moment, the front door flew open and out stumbled Dean. Castiel watched as the man crossed his lawn, stopping at the fence.

"Cas? Hey!"

Castiel stopped in front of Dean, "Hey Dean. How are you?"

"Okay," Dean swayed in the spot he stood.

Castiel went to open his mouth but he couldn't speak. Dean pulled him by his shirt to the fence, staring into his eyes for a moment before leaning into him. Dean hugged him hard. It was a little awkward with the fence between them, but Castiel liked that he wasn't pressing his lower body into Dean. He couldn't help the way his body was responding.

"Thanks. For the flowers, I mean," Dean said before releasing him.

If Castiel wasn't paying close enough attention, he would have missed Dean's fingers lightly grazing over his shoulder. His body was prickling with anticipation - goosebumps ran up and down his arms. His heart pounded against his rib cage, begging to be released from the torture. _Kiss me, please, Dean, kiss me._ It was like nothing that Castiel had experienced in his entire life. Balthazar had never made him  _feel_ in this way. He wasn't used to _feeling_ in this sense. Normally, all Castiel felt was a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he was guilty of a crime or something. With Dean, he felt nothing short of elated.

Dean took a step back as he stared into his eyes, "Uh, how are things with Balthazar?"

Cas froze for a moment. So Dean _did_ know Balthazar. Well, that made things a bit awkward.

"Fine."

"Cool," Dean replied in a blasé tone, "Well, I'll see you around, huh, doc? Maybe I'll get stabbed again or something."

"Dean."

It was really the only word that Castiel needed to say. He channeled every single emotion he had towards Dean into the sound of his name. He put everything in there and to some, it would only seem like he was saying another man's name. Whenever Castiel said Dean's name, he could feel himself put a little bit more of his heart out there on the line. He was willing to do it, just for this one man, to give up everything and lay himself down on a railroad track. Hopefully, he wouldn't be run over by a train...

Castiel's fingers found their way to Dean's arm, "Be careful," he said as he slid his hand from Dean's elbow-area to his wrist. He lightly held Dean's wrist in his hand. That's when the voice in his head started screaming about Balthazar, so he had to let go. He had to, even though it felt so right.

He let go.

* * *

 It was 12:03 AM and Dean couldn't sleep.

He tried his hardest, but it was to no avail. All he could think about were Cas' warm fingers holding his wrist. He felt an immediate rush of heat to his body. It was a surge of pure energy and it was just from _thinking_. It was almost the same as the rush he got from chasing after a criminal and getting close to catching them. It wasn't exactly the same though.

His hands slowly moved from his chest down to his stomach.

He inhaled deeply as he recalled Castiel running by earlier that day. He could see the pure rippled muscles that the man had. He was usually always hidden under that dreadful trenchcoat. Without it, Dean could see everything. He liked to see everything. A small smile lit up his face. Even though Dean had always thought that Castiel would be a bit more feminine in build, he noticed that the man was just as masculine as he was.

Heat was already pooling in his groin as he let out a low and primal groan.

There was one thing that Dean couldn't deny. It was his growing attraction to Castiel, rather literally.

He flipped over from his front side on to his stomach, surpressing himself for the time being. _This is just fucking wonderful._

_Awesome._ _  
_

* * *

 Dean stared at his cell phone as he waited for a response. He just texted Cas. He said "hi."

He slapped himself in the forehead for that one. 

"That was smooth, even for you, Dean," Bobby rolled his eyes as he set down the mug on the table for Dean. He sat in a chair opposite of Dean, sipping his tea.

"You made me!"

"I said text the guy, not bore the poor bastard to death with stupid conversations. Why don't you just ask the guy out already? Sheesh, you're all over him like a cheap suit."

Dean's face lit up with a blush, "He has a boyfriend."

When Bobby didn't respond, Dean continued talking, "They've been together for over two years. His boyfriend is my old partner, Balthazar? Remember him?"

"I may be old, but I'm not forgetful. British accent. He was annoying."

Dean picked up the mug and took a swig of hot tea. He choked, unaware of how hot the tea actually was. _Ouch_.

"So, you're trying to hurt yourself by getting into something with this doctor character?"

"No-"

"Well, it's awfully stupid to get so wrapped up and upset over this guy. Sometimes, I have to wonder about you, Dean, if you will ever stop analyzing every little move someone makes. You're too focused on the tiny details and you're not seeing the big picture. The guy has a thing for you, Dean. He just has to find out how to get rid of that bitchy-"

"Bobby, Bobby, Bobby!" 

"What?"

"You think he likes me?" Dean said like a teenager.

"Is that all you got out of that spiel, boy?"

Dean nodded.

"Idjit," Bobby rolled his eyes, "Yes."

Inside his chest, Dean could feel his heart pounding. So Castiel might actually like him, even though he was with Balthazar? How much would it take for Castiel to leave Balthazar? No, he wouldn't sabotage a relationship like that... No, not Dean, he knew what it was like. It happened to him more times than he could remember. It was painful. He didn't want to put Cas through any pain if he could help it.

He was pretty much hopeless.

His shoulders sagged with the sadness of his nearing defeat that loomed overhead.

* * *

 


	5. The Hidden Meaning

It was Saturday yet again and Castiel was looking forward to the end of his shift. It had been a long and stressful night so far but it was just about to die down, he had a feeling. He rolled his eyes. Why did he do this to himself? He had nothing better to do.

He sighed as his pager went off. It was 3 AM. Who was coming in this late/early/whatever?

He jogged to the emergency room.

Dean stood outside the emergency room, dressed in a tuxedo. He looked a little razzled, by the way his hair looked. It made Castiel stop for a moment.

"Dean?"

"Cas!" Dean smiled but then went back into a frown, "It's a kid. Abusive dad slashed him in the stomach."

"Oh," Cas frowned, "That's rather unfortunate."

"At least he has a great guy that'll take care of him for the time being," Dean said, patting Cas' shoulder, "You should get in there."

"Yeah."

"Wait," Dean pulled Cas back to him. He lightly kissed the other man's forehead, "Thank you."

Cas swayed slightly, "Uh, yes," he said quickly before rushing off into the emergency room. He had to patch this kid up, stat.

* * *

  
Castiel pulled Dean, rather ironically, into the nearest hall closet he could find. Maybe if he just got it out of his system, he would stop obsessing over the man. That's what he was trying to convince himself as he slipped his white coat off his body. Dean fidgeted with Castiel's tie, looking at the knot.

"What's wrong, Dean?"

"Nothing," he smiled faintly as he went back to playing with the tie. He pressed his lips against Castiel's, wiping away any doubts that either of them had about what was about to happen.   
  


Dean pulled Castiel's tie off in one slick motion and worked his fingers on the dress shirt the man wore.

"Dean," Cas choked out, "Dean."

In the dim light of the closet, Cas could see Dean's eyes shift from a mossy fan fiction green to a sexy and dark green. He could feel Dean pressing into his thigh with need.

"Fuck."

"Please," Castiel whimpered, "Please, Dean. Whatever is holding you back right now, let it go. Please."

This seemed to kick Dean into high gear as he bit down on Castiel's neck. Cas couldn't help squirm slightly as he tilted his head back. God damn, he thought, so far, it was way better than he could ever imagine. He wouldn't think Dean would like to bite. He latched his hands around Dean's neck, holding him in one place.

Cas panted, feeling his pants getting too tight for comfort.

"Cas," Dean groaned as he moved down his body. His tongue lightly flittered against Cas' nipples. Cas grabbed a handful of Dean's hair, pushing him lower. He didn't care about his nipples or how good it felt to have Dean's tongue against his body. He felt like a horny teenager. He was about to cum all over the place and he wanted Dean's mouth around him as he did so...

Dean came back up to Castiel's face. Apparently, Dean had other plans in mind. He shoved Castiel into the corner of the closet.

"Next time," he moved his hand over Cas' erection, "Yeah?"

Cas nodded, struck by how turned on he was. Dean barely did anything to him and he was ready to fuck the guy six ways from Sunday.

Dean made eye contact with Cas as he ground himself against Cas. 

"Cas," Dean growled as he picked up his pace. He went faster and faster, pressing Castiel into the wall. Cas felt like he was about to die from pleasure. He was in the same mind set as Dean. He rocked back and forth in perfect sync with Dean. He felt like he was on cloud nine... 

"Dean, Dean, I'm going to-" Cas latched his arms around Dean's neck.

Before Cas could say another word, Dean sucked Castiel's lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it. He moaned into Dean's mouth as he felt himself cumming more than he thought he could. The front of his trousers were drenched. He detached his mouth from Dean's and rested his head against the other man's shoulder.

Dean pumped against Castiel for a couple more strokes until his pants were in the same state as Castiel's - soaked.

Cas breathed heavily against Dean's neck, "That was something else."

"I was that bad?"

"No!" Castiel laughed, "God, no. Best ever."

Dean's chest moved up and down rapidly, "Gotta agree with you there."

And that's when Castiel's phone rang. He glanced over at it and felt himself go completely numb.

Balthazar.

How the hell could he have forgotten about Balthazar? He blinked rapidly as he let go of Dean's neck. He lightly shoved the other man out of the way and moved over to his phone. It was just a text message.

_Are you done being a dick yet? Or should I give you more time?_

He placed his phone back in the pile of clothes and kissed Dean with as much force as he could. 

_Fuck it.  
_

* * *

 

 

 

 

 


	6. The Delicate Dance

Cas cried.

He cried and cried. He couldn't stop himself - his body was reduced to a small crumpled ball in the corner of his bedroom. He rocked back and forth using his bare feet, digging into his carpet.

He was a cheater. He cheated on his boyfriend, for what? Closet sex with a man he barely knew? He moved back and forth again. What would he even say? What would he do?

Castiel Novak wasn't a cheater. He had been cheated on many times, over and over, but now the tables had turned. How could he have done this? This horrible thing? How? He sobbed violently into his bare arm.

It's not that he regretted anything with Dean, that was definitely not what he was upset about. That was, he stopped rocking, that was the best thing he'd ever experienced in his life. As to regretting that, no, he absolutely didn't. He couldn't get rid of the dreams of Dean's gorgeous green eyes. Cas ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn't stop thinking about Dean.

But it was wrong! It was so _wrong_. He was with Balthazar and had been for years and everything was _good_. Their relationship was _good._

That was part of the problem - it was _just_ good. It wasn't spectacular. It'd been a comfortable relationship. It was so comfortable that Castiel couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt that Balthazar was anything more than a friend.

 _Definitely a cheater_. He wiped the tears from his face.

I'm disgusting.

He stood up and crawled back to his bed. He had never felt more alone in his life. He'd never felt more upset. He didn't know how to cope with the emotions coursing through him. He rolled over and cried into the comfort of his pillow. That was all he had left. A freaking pillow.

_The other thing was, well, those soft green eyes haunted him._

It was like his mind was trying to tell him something. Maybe he should have picked up his phone and called Dean to come over? But that would be wrong. It had been less than a day since they were in that closet together and... what the hell, he was still with Balthazar.

He would have to tell Balthazar. That wasn't what he was truthfully worried about. He was mostly worried about how the blonde man would take it. He wasn't going to mention Dean's name, that would be just stupid. Balthazar would want to know who it was though. He'd have to make someone up.

Shit, he groaned and rolled onto his back, he just didn't want to deal with Balthazar's drama... the sad thing was, well, he would have to.

* * *

Dean sat outside in his lawn chair. He had a beer in hand, his sunglasses on, and Cas would be running by sometime and he would catch him. He wasn't exactly sure what he would say. What could he say? It had been almost three days since their incident...

His shoulders sagged as he realized something pretty important. Castiel had a boyfriend. Castiel had Balthazar. Would he even tell Balthazar? Would he dump him? Dean secretly hoped so, considering the best late night experience was the one he had in that closet in the hospital. He shivered. His cold beer dripped droplets of condensation down his hand. It was just enough to wake him up, at least a little.

So he sat there for an hour, more than an hour, just waiting for that fabulous man to run by in his oh-so-tight jogging shorts. But, alas, nothing happened.

"Fuck," he groaned. He'd really messed up this time - really badly.

He did what any _normal_ guy would do. He retreated into his house with his empty can of beer and his lawn chair. He leaned it up in the hallway before pulling out his phone, dialing Sam. Might as well be miserable together, right? He chuckled as he heard Sam groan into the phone.

"Dean, you know I'm in the middle of a big trial right now, what the hell could you possibly want?"

"Meet me at Ellen's place when you're out."

There was silence over the line, "Okay. Dean, is there something you want to talk a-"

He hung up the phone. And he ran out the door, climbed into the Impala, and drove down the road.

Did he want to talk about it?

No, not really.

Would Sam get it out of him?

Probably.

He sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. How would he explain to his brother that he basically fucked up his non-existent relationship with his god damn doctor? He cranked up Led Zeppelin as he gassed it. That's the thing though, it's always the same problem - Dean always fucked it up. It didn't matter who it was but they always end up hurt in the end. He stopped outside of the diner. His fingers jingled his keys that still sat in the ignition.

He needed a beer. He needed more than just a slice of pie, but hey, he had to start somewhere.

* * *

"Dean!" Balthazar greeted.

The one guy he didn't want to see in the middle of the crowded club. Don't even ask why or how he and Sammy had ended up at a club. Jessica pretty much controlled Sam.

"Er, hey, Balthazar," he smiled, "What's up, man? How are things?"

He grinned, "Great. You will never guess what happened to me the other day. I was out in the cruiser and looking around for something to do, you know, I was bored," he chuckled, "Well, anyways, I ended up over by that gay strip club across town? I can't even remember the name of the place but I was outside. Apparently, the bouncer thought I was part of the act on stage and let me in. And, well, I got backstage and let me tell you, there were some nice looking guys there. A lot nicer than my boyfriend looks, actually," he smirked.

Dean felt his grip on his beer bottle tighten. Why would he talk about Cas like that?

"Oh and, well, let's just say I got a guy's number and I was pretty damn lucky. I just can't break it to Cassie. I mean, it's not the first time I cheated on him or anything, but I don't think he'll stay with me this time."

"He deserves to know," Dean growled.

Balthazar sighed, "Yes, I know he does. I just don't know if I have the heart to tell him."

"Man up."

"My, my, Winchester, who tromped over your field of daisies today? Someone's a bit grumpy," Balthazar teased as he pinched Dean's cheek, "You're so adorable when you get upset."

"Shut up," he turned on his heels and left Balthazar standing in the middle of the dance floor, alone. He pushed through the crowd of sticky people and made his way to the bar. He sat down on the stool. This night out really wasn't helping him get his mind off Castiel. His dark hair and bright blue eyes were enough to drive any man wild, hell, even a straight guy would probably go for Cas.

And he sat there at the bar, draining bottle after bottle, until he couldn't think straight.

* * *

Dean groaned as he set his coffee mug down on his desk. Fuckin' hell, that's what this hangover was. He thumbed through more files. He just couldn't focus. He sighed as he stood up, collecting his mug, keys, phone and wallet. He needed to get out of his office.

"Dean! You know the Milton case? Apparently, his brother, Gabriel is in the hospital for some reason," Balthazar said, "They wanted you in there first for questioning."

Dean just grunted in response. He wasn't in the mood for Balthazar this morning. Not like he was in the mood to talk to Balthazar _any_ morning.

"You want to drive me there?"

Balthazar frowned, "Uh, well, Cas is kind of doing the operation and we're sort of-uh-not together anymore. It would be a little weird."

"Yeah. Okay, I get it. I'll drive myself," he sighed as he walked out of the precinct. He headed straight for the Impala. He couldn't help but feel a little odd about this whole thing. His stomach was fluttering. Sure, Cas and Balthazar were split-ski but that didn't mean it was okay for him to just pounce. Not only that, but this Gabriel, Lucifer's brother? He was in some pretty deep shit.

Dean floored it out of the parking lot. He had to get there before one of Lucifer's guys did. Would Lucifer have his own brother killed? Dean cringed. He did almost kill Michael, his twin, so anything was really possible with that freak.

He parked his car outside the front doors of the hospital and barged into the place.

"Gabriel Milton?" he said at the desk, showing his badge.

"203," the blonde at the desk said.

"Thanks," he winked at her before jogging down the corridors, through the maze of rooms. He stopped short when he saw Cas, standing with a cup of coffee. He wasn't wearing his normal work clothes though. He was just wearing a pair of dark blue jeans with a plaid shirt. His sleeves were rolled up. He paced back and forth in the middle of the hallway. _Why_?

"Cas?"

Castiel stopped and looked up. His eyes softened. It was obvious he'd been crying for some time. Over Balthazar? "Dean," Cas said as he shifted on his feet, "You're here to see Gabriel, right?"

"Yeah."

"I was just about to visit him," he said softly, "Uh, follow me."

Hot on Cas' trail, he followed the man down to the very end of the hall. Cas' fingers latched onto the doorknob.

"Cas, are you okay?"

Cas hesitated, "Uh, yes and no. It's been years since I've seen my brother and I certainly didn't think I would see him again..."

"Gabriel?"

Castiel didn't say anything as he opened the door. He sulked off to the corner of the room with his coffee mug in hand. The guy looked like a train wreck, now that Dean was actually half alive and feeling his coffee finally kicking in. His usually somewhat neat hair was all over the place and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Dean just shook his head as he approached the bed. Gabriel, the long haired accomplice to Lucifer, was laying there, completely unconscious. It would probably be a while until he woke up.

"Castiel. When is the last time you slept?"

Cas' eyes went into his coffee mug. He didn't respond, which kind of made Dean upset. The guy couldn't even remember? Dean crossed the room and hovered by Cas' side.

"Go home," Dean whispered as he rubbed the man's shoulder lightly, "Please, you need sleep."

Tears slid down Castiel's face as he took a seat in one of the chairs, "I can't," he said as he let out a string of sobs.

Dean sat in the chair next to Castiel, his hands never leaving the other man's body. He rubbed circles on his back.

"Cas, just breathe for me. In and out, nice and slow."

Cas' chest stopped moving up and down as rapidly as it had been. He was calming down.

"That's right, babe, you're okay, I got you," Dean said as he kissed the top of Cas' head, "It's okay. I'm here and I'm not going to let anyone get near you. You don't have to worry about your brother or anything else. Just listen to the sound of my voice," he leaned closer to Cas' ear, "I'm just going to keep talking to you until you close those gorgeous eyes of yours and drift off to sleep."

Cas' fingers loosened on Dean's tie. His curled fist flattened out. His palm was directly over Dean's heart.

"Dean-n," Cas hiccuped.

"Shhhhh," Dean smiled as he wrapped Cas closer to him. He lifted the other man out of his chair and onto his lap. Cas just cried, and cried, until he couldn't cry any longer. Dean just held him there. What else would he have done? He inhaled Cas' sweet smelling hair through his nose. It was something that Dean couldn't exactly describe. He didn't understand what he was feeling towards Cas. All he understood was that he was feeling something a little different than what he was used to.  


And he kind of liked it.


	7. The Oddest Day... Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the bit of filler-ish stuff, well, sort of, I dunno, enjoy! :)

Cas shifted on his couch. He held the coffee mug close to his chest. It had been an exhausting three days with Gabriel in the hospital. He just sat there, staring at his unconscious brother for hours and hours. There was nothing happening. He wasn't waking up. It killed Cas. It was so painful to see him, after so many years without contact. Gabriel just decided to drop back into his life, unintentionally, but still, it hurt.

He sniffled as he stared at the clock on his wall. It was 12:43 PM. He had been sleeping for over 16 hours and he still felt like garbage.

Three sharp knocks made him a little more alert.

He jumped to his feet, placed his coffee on the table by the couch, and walked over to the door. He pulled it open.

"Dean?"

Dean shifted on his feet, "Dr. Novak," he smiled lightly, "Detective Winchester and Officer Bradbury. Can we come in?"

Cas' eyes went from Dean to the red head next to him. She didn't smile though - she kept on her poker face, he guessed.

"Er-sure," Cas opened the door a little more, "Take a seat. Make yourselves at home. Would you like a cup of tea? Coffee?" Cas offered. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Why would Dean be here on business?

"Coffee would be great," Dean said as he gracefully sat down on one of the couches.

Cas turned to the red head cop, who was standing by all of his photos on the end table, "Uh, same for me," she responded.

And Cas made his way to his kitchen. He added some water to his coffee machine and turned it on. His fingers went through his hair. Dean probably wanted answers about Gabriel, to which Castiel had none. But of course, Dean probably didn't know that, he probably thought he was some sort of accesory to murder or something. Cas waited patiently for the coffee to start brewing. He tapped his fingers against the counter. It was one of his horrible habits. Whenever he thought of Lucifer, he just tapped and tapped.

He didn't want to think about his horrifying brother but sometimes, he couldn't help it. He couldn't help that...

And the coffee was done so he carried out two mugs, filled with coffee. He placed them lightly on the glass table and then returned to the kitchen, bringing half and half and sugar, in case they wanted it. He dropped the stuff on the table.

"So, what can I do for you two?" Cas said as he scratched his head, "Er - sorry about the mess."

"Don't worry about it, Ca-Dr. Novak," Dean smiled easily, "Just wanted to ask you about Gabriel."

Castiel let out a sigh, "I had a feeling."

"When was the last time you saw your brother?"

"I filed the police report years ago, when he went missing. I - uh - one morning, he was just gone. It was years ago. Years," Cas choked, "Years and years. And now he's back and he's okay," he sobbed.

And he wanted to feel Dean's arms around him, like he did days ago. But Dean's arms didn't go around him. He looked up from his sweat pants and into the eyes of the detective, feeling the sadness bearing down on him like never before.

"Yeah," Dean said. His green eyes met Castiel's for a brief second before flittering back down to his notepad, "Did you have any contact with your brother previously?"

"Previously? When would I have the chance to?" Cas snapped, "He was missing. The case went cold and no one could find him."

Officer Bradbury cleared her throat, "Dr. Novak, we're just trying to figure this all out."

"Well, don't you think I fucking am?"

"Officer Bradbury," Dean growled as he jumped off the couch, "Go back to headquarters. You're no longer needed."

"But Dean, you pro-"

"Charlie," he warned.

"Ugh," she groaned as she stomped out of Cas' house.

He chuckled, "Sorry, she's new," he shifted as he stood up. His suit coat moved a little, revealing one gun on his side. Cas shivered. He didn't realize Dean carried a gun. Well, it made sense that he carried a gun, of course he did, he was a detective. Cas didn't do anything as Dean sat down next to him, "So. Do you know anything else about Gabriel? or even Lucifer?"

"No," Cas croaked, "That's why I changed my name."

Dean nodded, "Okay. Well, Cas," he lightly patted his shoulder, "Don't worry about a thing, no one will bother you about this again. You have my word, okay?" his hand rested on Castiel's shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" Dean lifted his hand off his shoulder, "You look like shit, man."

Cas pushed his hair upwards, "Ah, uh, well, it's been an interesting couple of days."

Dean nodded, "Well, if you need anything," Dean fished around in his jacket pocket, "I want you to call me. Anything at all. You just pick up your phone and call me. I will be here," Dean placed his card into Castiel's open hand, "But I have to get back to work now, okay? And I'll be back-"

Castiel grabbed at Dean's lapels and pulled the man to his face. He pressed his lips to Dean's. Suddenly, Cas couldn't feel a damn thing. He couldn't feel all the sadness or the anger that was overcoming him. He felt nothing but sheer joy. He was so happy? He pulled Dean closer, impossibly closer, smashing his nose up against his. He couldn't help it. He wanted this - no - he needed this. He needed Dean.

Cas felt Dean's moan ripple through his mouth and reverberate inside of his chest.

Yes, yes, yes, he thought as he straddled Dean. He could feel another gun against his leg. Or was it? He rutted his hips against Dean's, breaking contact with his lips.

"Fuck."

His teeth gritted as he stared at Dean. Dean Winchester's eyes were filled with black lust. It poured through his green eyes like a flood and seeped over the gates.

"Cas, no offense, but we can't do this right now," Dean heaved in and out, "You have to get your emotions in check, okay?" Dean's fingers brushed through Cas' messy hair. His fingers migrated down Castiel's body to his hips, which Castiel started gyrating. Dean groaned, buring his fingers into his soft flesh. He finally could speak again, "Castiel," Dean said as he lifted the other man up. His hands slid onto Cas' ass.

Cas let out an explicit moan. Dean's hands were so perfect. It's almost like they were made to touch him. Yes, yes they were made just for that purpose.

"Detective Winchester," Cas smirked, "Would you like to begin your full investigation," he latched his legs around Dean's hips, "Maybe start with a strip search... then a cavity search."

"Did you spike your coffee?"

Castiel shrugged, "Possibly."

He dropped Cas down on the couch, "I have to get back to work. I'll rain check you on those searches," Dean winked.

"But-"

With that, Dean strolled right out of Cas' house.

Cas was alone, yet again. He let out a sigh as he curled up into the blankets on his couch. No one wanted to be with him, not even Dean. He let out a sob and relaxed against the pillow. It was for the best, right? That's what he kept telling himself as he drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

It had been one long as fuck day.

Dean was at his breaking point. What was Lucifer up to? Didn't he know how risky it was to have Gabriel in the hospital, with all that knowledge locked up in his head? He must have known. How would he control Gabriel? Dean glanced across his desk to notice Officer Bradbury, snoozing on his files. Training officers to be detectives was never his favorite thing to do. If it would keep freaking Uriel off his ass, he honestly didn't give a fuck.

"Bradbury?" he poked her with a pencil.

Nothing. What did he expect though, it was almost 11:45 and Charlie had been on the clock since 5 in the morning. Working that long would easily wipe out a rookie.

He sighed and poked her cheek, "Charlie?"

"WHAT?!" she bolted upright, "Phew, sorry, Dean! Long day."

"Get used to it," he chuckled, "Coffee helps."

"Some of us didn't get to drink their coffee earlier-"

Dean's mind flashed back to Cas, pulling him in for a kiss. His body was hot, so hot, with an indescribable heat. It was like a furnace wherever his body met Cas'. The feeling of Cas grinding against him in his memory was enough to make him semi-hard... He glanced down at his pants and crossed his legs.

"Dean, were you even listening to me?" Charlie giggled, "Sheesh, someone's got it bad."

"Shut up."

But his ass - that ass that had tight muscles from jogging - that was what would really get him going. He tried his hardest to think of something else but all he could think of were his hands, gripping those amazing muscles. He could only imagine how it would feel-

"Earth to Dean!" Charlie shouted.

"Er-what?"

"Lucifer was spotted outside the hospital."

"Great."

"Aren't we going to get him? Catch him?"

"No," Dean grumbled, "We're not. We need to plan. We can't just spring a trap on a rat that knows it will happen - we have to wait for the right time and catch him off-guard. He probably has at least ten guys standing around the hospital, ready to shoot the first thing that crosses their line of sight."

"So, can I go home?"

He let out a sigh, "I guess we both can head out for the night."

Dean walked with Charlie out to her car.

"Dean, could I ask you something?"

"Depends."

"Take a day off."

Dean laughed, "That's not much of a question."

"No, but really, you need a day off."

He ran his fingers through his hair, "Yeah, okay, I'll think about it."

* * *

Dean walked into the small room. He had to go in to the hospital so Cas - Dr. Novak - could check up on his shoulder. It had healed flippin' fantastically, just like the rest of his wounds did. There was a light scar but other than that, he seemed fine. Or, so he thought.

He sat up on the examination table. He did have a day off, thanks to stubborn Charlie, so he dressed... well, he dressed better than he would on a normal day. He wasn't wearing a suit and tie. He had on a black button up, rolled to his elbows, and a pair of jeans on. It wasn't anything special, well, that and he didn't shave. He almost over-slept for his appointment. He had a scruffy-looking beard. He looked down at his hands as he waited for Cas to pop in.

"Mr. Winchester!" A female voice said, "Hm, it seems like your Cas' patient usually, yes? Well, you're in luck, I'm his sister, Dr. Anna Novak and I'll be doing your appointment today," The red head smiled at Dean, "Huh, well, it says on your file that you were stabbed in the shou-"

"Where's Cas?"

She raised her brow and just cleared her throat in response, "As I was saying, you-"

"Is he okay?"

"Mr. Winchester. Would you please let me continue?"

If Dean had still had a thing for girls, he would have pounced on her in an instant. She was smokin'. Her body was phenomenal. He shifted on the uncomfortable examination table, "Fine."

"Alright, take off your shirt and let's have a look. You had stitches in it, correct?"

Dean unbuttoned his shirt, "Yes, but I took them out myself," he said as he discarded his shirt onto the other part of the examination table.

Anna nodded as she stared at the shoulder, "Well, lucky for you, minimal scarring. Anyways, you look fine. Is there anything you want me to note about this visit?"

Dean grumbled, "No."

"Alright, well thanks for stopping by Mr. Winchester. Have a nice day," she said as she exited the room.

He slid his shirt back on. What the fuck was happening? Where was Cas? He was supposed to be his primary, not his stupid freaking sister, so he should have been checking on his scar. He spent time doing all the buttons up before sliding off the table. He grabbed the file she left on the counter and walked out of the room. He noticed Anna, talking with a very exhausted looking Castiel. Dean could feel the anger boiling up in his body. Did he not want to deal with Dean anymore?

Cas' eyes met his for a moment before reconnecting with Anna's. They were both talking, rather animatedly, about something. But what? Dean wouldn't know. He sighed as he made his way towards the front of the hospital.

"Dean?"

Dean's eyes came off the floor as Castiel walked towards him. He stopped a little too far away for Dean's likings, but he didn't really care.

"I've been operating for the past four hours. I just wasn't sure I would get out to be at your appointment," he said, "I hope you didn't mind seeing Anna."

Dean glanced around Cas. Anna wasn't anywhere in sight, "Uh, no." He secretly wished that Castiel had been in his appointment. He wanted to take his shirt off and feel Cas' gaze on his body. He'd wanted to feel that stare somewhere other than his face. Cas could have bitten into the skin on his shoulder - wait a second, what was happening?

"Okay. Well, you were my last patient for the day," Cas smiled brightly.

They just stood there, staring at each other. What was he even trying to say? Dean shifted on his feet. That's when Cas leaned into his ear, "I'll meet you outside in ten minutes, sexy," his fingers grazed over the front of Dean's jeans. He groaned slightly. He didn't even realize he had been so turned on.

Cas turned on his heels and strode down the hallway. 

So, Dean flipped around and dropped his file on the counter. Well, this would be fun.

 


	8. The Reason Why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, but hey, better than nothing!

Dean toyed with the cigarette in his hand. He quit smoking over two years ago but he always carried one around in his pocket. It was a reminder of the challenge it was to quit. And right that second, he just wanted to light the damn thing up. He had been waiting for Castiel to come out of the hospital for what seemed like hours. The tightness in his groin area was a little unsettling - he was parading around with a hard-on in public that he just couldn't get rid of.

"Come on, Cas," he said through gritted teeth.

He palmed the lighter in the pocket of his jeans. He wanted it so badly. He wanted to light up that stick and shove it in his mouth and relax a little bit. It was one cigarette, what harm could it do? He poked the stick into his mouth and produced the lighter. He lit the end of the stick and inhaled deeply. That was just what he needed. He exhaled and glanced around him. Where the fuck was Cas?

Dean glanced at his watch. It had been a little over fifteen minutes.

He shifted on his feet, flicking the unlit side of his cigarette lightly.

Little did he know that he would be standing there for over an hour and a half, waiting for a man that would never show up.

* * *

Dean tapped his pen against his desk. It had been two days since he'd last seen Castiel. Something just wasn't right about it. He could feel it in his gut. It's not like he could file a missing person's report on the other man though.

Maybe he went on vacation?

He would have called.

Maybe he was sick?

He would have called.

Maybe he hated Dean?

Fuck it, he still would have called.

Dean scratched at his eyelid and, dammit, his phone just decided to start ringing. In fact, every phone in the precinct started to ring. So, naturally, Dean picked his phone up.

"Hello?"

"Dean Winchester?" he heard Castiel's voice, filled with what sounded like fear, "Dean. Please. Child home help. Dean Winchester? Dean. Please. Child home help. Dean Winchester? Dea-"

The phone line went dead. He groaned. Shit, Cas was in trouble. He was so fucking stupid. What did child home help even mean? Was that a real phrase? There weren't any orphanages around anymore, so Castiel wasn't talking about one of those... What the hell did he mean? He grabbed his coat and began running across the large office building, pushing through the hoardes of police men and women, scrambling about.

"Do we have a trace?"

"-Abducted?"

"-Castiel Novak. He's a doctor at-"

"Why would he be saying Dean's name? Are they friends?"

The snippets of the conversations whirled in Dean's head as he jogged and shoved people out of his way. He needed to save Cas. His brain was firing at an astonishing rate. Child home help. There was a child in his home that needed help? That didn't make any sense either. That's when Dean's blood went almost completely cold. He had just realized that Castiel's message was repeated with the exact same vocal tone almost three times. It was a recording.

Castiel could already be dead.

Fuck!

"Where are you going?" Balthazar boomed, "You have no idea where Castiel is. How are you planning on finding him?"

Dean stopped in his tracks. Balthazar _did_ have a point, for once. But that's where Balthazar was completely stupid. Dean knew exactly where Castiel was. His childhood home. That's what child home had to mean. What else could it be?

"922 Parkway Avenue. I need SWAT and backup," Dean shouted across the room, "Lucifer has him. That's who abducted Cas. Balthazar, you're with me. Let's get this bastard."

* * *

 


End file.
